


Family Portraits

by ScriptedScarlet



Category: One Piece
Genre: Dubious Morality, Family Angst, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Just all the family related tags, Moral Ambiguity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life, other characters to be added - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-01-26 12:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21374197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptedScarlet/pseuds/ScriptedScarlet
Summary: Vergo did not buy a camera in Dressrosa. But the Donquixote Family did have a camera. And it was put to good use.Viola is cleaning the castle after the fall of Dressrosa, and finds things. Personal things. Things that she isn't quite sure what to make of.A collection of short stories about the Donquixote Family. Mostly one-shots, prompts or drabbles I've written on the side that don't really go anywhere else - ranging from serious to funny. I'll add to it as I write stuff.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The goal of this is to be an ongoing collection of short stories and prompts about the Donquixote Family. People ask me when I'm going to write about them again, and honestly I write about them all the time, but they are less full stories and more just small scenes and ideas, so I'm going to put them here. There will definitely be smalls nods and references to my other fics about the Donquixote Family, but there's nothing in here that can't be read independently. 
> 
> Prologue/first prompt was part of a discord chat. Fic has been modified.

“It’s fine, I appreciate it Leo, but I hardly need a Tontatta guard to just help me clean out a few rooms.”

“But you should not be cweaning! You ah too important!” said Leo, stubbornly, rapping his sewing needle on the stone floor to emphasize his point. “And you still have injurwies!” 

“I am _ not _ too important, but thank you,” Viola chuckled, scooping the dwarf up. “Leo, the citizens of Dressrosa need the Tontatta’s help receiving medical care right now. Please, leave the palace to me, Rebecca and father. It’s hardly going to get cleaned out this afternoon, but’s a start.” 

“The pink bee squad would have these old rooms sparkwing cwean in no time!” said Leo, waving a tiny hand. “We’d make it like the Donquixote Family was nevah here!” 

“Well then I know who to call if I need backup,” said Viola setting Leo down on the window sill. “Now go join Mansherry at the harbor. Please_. _”

Leo humphed but scooted down the window ledge and hopped into the courtyard below. 

Viola sighed. Truth be told, she would have appreciated the help getting rid of what remained of the Donquixote Family’s presence in Dressrosa’s palace. It was a monumental task. They had lived there for over a decade. The palace still bore their trappings, their rooms and personal belongings were still intact, at least those that hadn’t been damaged or destroyed in the chaos.

What was to become of the lives they left behind, as they lay in shackles on a Navy ship bound for Impel Down? 

It was just things, Viola told herself. Nothing but furniture and belongings of a bunch of criminals. And yet it felt too intimate, like crossing some strange boundary, to rummage through their rooms, to take and dispose of their things...of those whom she had once, out of need to survive, called her _ family _. 

The word felt almost corrosive in her mind now. 

Viola desperately wanted to peer across Dressrosa into the harbor, gaze past the scores of Marines, past Fujitora and his dice gambling on the Strawhats luck, and into the dark corners of the ship. But she couldn’t bring herself to. She both did and didn’t want to see what remained of those pink feathers, see that terrifying, that _ charismatic _smile still --

She stopped herself, shaking her head. She would _ never_, she _ couldn’t _peer there, not now, not when the madness had finally stopped.

That was why she had sent Leo away. She needed space, needed time, to sweep the lives of the Donquixote Family away - both physically and emotionally. 

Viola turned slowly to the corridor before her.

The Donquixote Family did not live there anymore. The lives they had left behind were not needed. 

She steeled herself, and went into Jora’s room.

The walls were a repulsive, garish purple, with unsightly splotches of yellow, green and pink splattered across the walls. Paintings of similarly splattered nonsense were also hung up. Disgusting. The room would have to be repainted.

Thankfully, the Marines had already done a thorough sweep of anything that could have been counted as evidence, but that had rather left things in disarray. 

The dresser was a mess, the drawers clearly opened in search for anything incriminating, though Viola doubted the Marines would have found much in Jora’s room. 

Viola had never liked the woman, she was shrill and frivolous, and would likely have turned the entire palace into some hideous avant-garde mess if Doffy...if _ Doflamingo, _ had let her. 

The pottery wheel, multiple easels and art supplies could get donated to some of the local schools. She set those aside out in the hallway.

Next, she began hoisting the ugly paintings down from the walls. They would go to the burn pile. No one would buy such things. 

Viola took note of the jewelry. Most of it was tacky and gaudy costume jewelry, but there was a handful of decent pieces that could be sold to benefit rebuilding. She scooped those into a separate bag. The rest went into the pile with the paintings: a pair of huge green earrings, an ugly, misshapen pearl bracelet. The pearls weren’t even finished and were all sorts of uneven, lumpy shapes, mixed with other random gems. Why had the woman worn such things? Perhaps Dellinger or Sugar’s rooms would offer some items of value that could at least be sold.

She opened the drawers further, hoping for something salvageable instead of just more junk.

A thick leather bound volume lay in the top drawer. Curious, Viola opened it. 

A small note fell out. In pink loopy handwriting it read_ Happy Birthday Jora. From, Young Master. _

Viola recoiled as it though burned. _ Young Master. _ That loopy pink writing writing felt like a hook yanking into her chest. Any shred or echo of Doflamingo had be purged from these walls, even his handwriting was unwelcome. His --

A pale pink note floated to her mind's eye._Violet_,_ your performance tonight was so splendid. I took the liberty of having your favorite roses sent to- _

Violet ripped the note into shreds and flung the paper into the pile of trash. 

Perplexed as to why Jora had received a book for her birthday and not some more ugly jewelry or art supplies, she picked it up again. Perhaps it was a book of weird paintings, she thought, as she turned the page.

Her hands suddenly felt very cold.

The first page was a photograph of...it _ must _have been Jora. She was slimmer, definitely younger, but it was her alright. Viola would have recognized that ludicrous hair and those glasses anywhere. 

She was laughing, beaming. Viola drew her hand to her mouth. Cradled in Jora’s arms was a tiny baby with horns and teeth. 

There was writing underneath in Doflamingo’s loopy scrawl.

_ Jora receives a “special assignment.” We haven’t even had it 24 hours and it's already bitten half of us. Buffalo nearly lost a finger. Pink wants to name it after a cocktail. _

Viola blinked, surprised. Was this...was this a _ family album? _ Why would Doflamingo made such a thing?

She turned the page. Several more photographs followed. A young Jora sitting on the deck of a ship next to Machvise, who was playing guitar. Dellinger was asleep on her lap. 

_ Machvise sings Feller from Fortune for the _ _ seventh_ _ time. Jora loves it but we all wish he’d learn something else. _

A tiny Baby 5 riding on the shoulders of...was that Buffalo? Must be. Both of them eating ice cream and laughing. A surly boy of about eight or so stood nearby, looking thoroughly unimpressed by his ice cream.

_ Buffalo wanted ice cream. Law did not. _

Viola’s breath seemed to stop, looking at the boy’s hat. Was that...Trafalgar Law?

The surly boy appeared again, next to Doffy, _ no_, next to _ Doflamingo. _ Viola felt her chest go very tight. They were reading a book on navigation and sea charts. Doflamingo was smiling: not his fiendish, scheming smile, but one of affection, of pride. Her hands shook over the photograph. 

She knew _ that _smile.

A photo of Gladius, who looked barely older than fifteen, covering his face, clearly not wanting his picture taken, while Baby 5 was painting his toenails and laughing. The caption:_ It’s not a phase, Diamante! _

Again, Jora and Dellinger. This time he was a bit older; he was trying to fit an entire lobster into his mouth while clearly sobbing.

_ He can’t decide if he wants to eat it or if its cannibalism. We don’t know either. _

Jora passed out on the deck. She looked completely disheveled and was covered in paint with a loopy smile on her face. Baby 5 and Buffalo leaning over her with their fingers pressed to their mouths. 

_ Shh! You probably don’t remember this one, Jora. You just had to sample the goods and then you tried to eat paint. You were talking about the moon being full of tiny people...is there something you know that we don’t?” _

What looked like a drinking contest between Machvise, Lao G, Pica, and a man it took Viola a moment to recognize as Senior Pink. Viola was astonished to him young and in a tailored suit instead of his bonnet. _ Manly men doing manly things. Machvise won. _

Viola was astonished, picture after picture of silly, strange, some completely mundane things. 

_ Dell’s first pair of shoes - he screams when you try to take them off. We should have known then… _

_ You’ve seen pistol girl, sword girl, and gun girl...now get ready for BAZOOKA GIRL. Well done Baby 5! Now please don’t explode on the ship again. _

_ Diamante burned the quiche ...none of us even like his quiche. (But it’s better than your clams, Jora! Sorry!) _

Gladius again avoiding the camera in a studded jacket: _ He says it's called ‘steampunk’...and no Trebol, it's not a phase! _

_ Dell and Sugar know the best place for a nap is Young Master’s coat… _ and on the opposite page: _ Dellinger learns the hard way that Trebol’s coat is not as cozy a spot as Young Master’s…. _

_ “Sisters on the beach…” _ Monet and Sugar dozing against each other. Sugar flipping off the camera. 

Viola gasped aloud, suddenly. 

There was a picture of her in there. 

_ Dellinger wants to be just like his new sister Violet and learn ‘flamingo dancing’...Violet isn’t impressed. _

She could recall the day Doffy had made Dellinger tag along to her dance class. She didn’t recall such a picture being taken, and yet here Dellinger was, small and posing in a skirt next to her.

_ Monet wants to try this ‘steampunk’ thing too. Gladius wants his goggles back. _

_ Girls, with a ‘ _ ** _G_ ** _ .’ Yesterday Pink had three of them following him and now there’s five. We think they reproduce through mitosis... _

_ Diamante putting on war paint for the Colosseum...Dellinger wants some too. _

_ Buffalo still has no trouble carrying Baby 5 around for ice cream… _

“Viola, what are you doing?”

Her heart froze. She whipped around to see Trafalgar Law, standing in the doorway.

“Oh, Law,” she said, hastily setting the album down. “I thought you were leaving with Straw Hat?”

“We are, soon,” he said. “Don’t know how much longer our luck will hold. Fujitora has to be planning to make his move soon. What have you got there?”

“Oh, I was just cleaning out some things that used to belong to the family, we’ve got to get rid of it all eventually” said Viola, flushed. “This is Jora’s room, it’s nothing but junk, most of this stuff is getting thrown away…”

Law crossed, silently into the room. His head tilted in curiosity, and he picked up the album.

“Law don’t,” said Viola, suddenly. “It’s not...I shouldn’t have even looked at it. I-”

It felt invasive, voyeuristic, in a way that had nothing to do with her powers. She had pried into something that was not hers to see. Seen things that didn’t make sense, things that didn’t fit into the narrative of Dressrosa and its tyranny, deception and wreckage. 

“Don’t look at it Law,” said Viola, gently trying to pull the book from him, but he held it open, thumbing the pages.

His brow furrowed, his gaze hard and dark. Viola wanted to peer into whatever was going on behind his shadowed eyes, but she quite frankly felt she had done enough of peering into what wasn’t hers already. She didn’t dare venture into what she might find in Law as he turned the pages, his face unreadable.

He was looking for something, Viola realized.

He shut the album.

“Is this the pile going to the trash?” he said, gesturing to the paintings, the bag of old jewelry.

“I...what? Oh, yes. I’m just going to throw them in the burn pile behind the kitchen.” 

“I’ll take care of it,” said Law, hoisting the bag. He threw the book inside, and walked out, not looking back. 

Viola stared after him. Whatever he had been looking for had not been in the album.

She didn’t know what she was supposed to feel anymore about the monsters who had taken her country, taken her family from her.

The monsters that had _ become _ her family.

She didn’t know what to feel about the loopy handwriting that had once beckoned her, and the stories it had left behind in those pages. Stories she could never peer into, stories she could never know. 

She didn’t know where they fit in Dressrosa’s story, into _ her _story. 

A few minutes later, she smelled the smoke from behind the kitchen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely useless information...Feller From Fortune is my favorite Canadian sea shanty. Go listen to the version by the Fables. Then go listen to Whiskey in the Jar by the Irish Rovers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Hands

“Oh heavens!”

The manicurist recoiled, nearly tipping over the bowl of water. Jora winced.

“What on earth have you done to yourself?” the manicurist said, straightening her glasses and gingerly taking Jora’s hand as if it were venomous. 

“Hohoho…w-what was that?” Jora chuckled, sheepishly. “My hands look like that of a goddess?”

“I don’t know if I’d say that,” said the nail tech, grimacing as she looked over Jora’s hands. 

Jora’s manicure from last month was nearly destroyed, only one battered lime green acrylic nail remained on her left pinky. Chunks of dried paint in various colors were stuck under her broken nails, there was a burn on her thumb from when she had fallen asleep smoking a joint with Machvise, and she still hadn’t managed to get the pink tint out of her skin after trying to dye the sails unsuccessfully. To say nothing of the old blister scars across her knuckles from when she was messing around the hot wax, or the gash on her left thumb from getting too intimate with Gladius’s sewing machine.

“Well, I’m going to need more water, possibly some bleach, heaven help me,” groaned the woman. “Go pick out a color.”

Jora hummed absentmindedly and chose a metallic purple.

* * *

“Ma’am, do you need to see a doctor?! What happened to you?”

“Oh I’m fine-zamasu,” said Jora, airily waving a bandaged hand. “This is nothing. I think I’m going to do a nice cerulean blue. Can you do lime green on the ring finger?”

Jora sat down in the chair having picked colors from the polish shelf. The salon owner gaped at her hands.

Jora’s left hand had a large bandage taped over the top of it, and her her thumb and forefinger were wrapped in gauze. A few spots of blood peeked through the gauze from what was clearly the crisscross of fresh stitches. Her right hand fared little better: multiple bandages wound around her fingers, and her hand wrapped to the wrist like a prizefighter. 

What wasn’t wrapped in gauze looked like it had only just barely healed. The owner gaped at her wrist ...was that a _ bite _mark?

“Ma’am I’m sorry, I have to ask….”

“Oh, we have a little one on my ship,” said Jora, beaming and clasping her wounded hands together. “We adopted him a month or so ago; he’s the most splendid creature in the world-zamasu! But we think he’s about six or seven months old, so he’s at that time, you know...they start _ teething_.” 

The salon owner stared incredulously. He had heard of some folks referring to their pets as their ‘children’ nowadays...

“I see,” he said, a bit bemusedly. “So, what kind of dog-”

“Jora, I’ve brought some company for you!”

Donquixote Doflamingo stooped to enter the salon, towering over Jora and the owner. Gladius skulked in behind him, along with Baby 5, who was holding a sleeping baby Dellinger and wearing oven mitts.

The salon staff gaped, completely gobsmacked by the presence of Doflamingo and his companions. A nearby pedicure basin overflowed with water, its attendant oblivious as she gawked, her jaw hanging open. 

“Why Young Master! What a pleasant surprise!!” said Jora, stretching out her arms. “My precious fishcakes, come sit with me!

“We came to get our nails done too!” said Baby 5, gratefully passing Dellinger to Jora, who cradled him to her chest.

“Gladius, you should get pink,” said Doflamingo, towering over the rack of polish.

“No! I’m getting black,” said Gladius, hunching into his coat.

“That’s no fun Gladius!” said Baby 5. “Get purple or something cool!”

Dellinger opened his mouth and yawned, revealing a gaping maw of massive, crookedly sharp teeth, and promptly latched onto Jora’s hand with an audible chomp.

“Oww! See? What did I say-zamasu?” chuckled Jora, wincing as she turned back to the owner. “_ Teething _. Well, what can you do? I--”

The owner was on the floor. 

“I think he’s fainted,” said Baby 5. 

“My beauty does have that effect on people,” said Jora, gently trying to pry Dellinger’s mouth open. “Gladius, can you pick me out an orange instead?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am more than happy to take prompts if anyone would like to send me something. Cannot promise I'll do all of them, I'm in the middle of another project, but this is very enjoyable to write some short snippets on the side.


End file.
